


Time Marches On

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: Holly's Round Seven H/C Bingo Card [30]
Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: Whispers and glances and ten thousand unspoken words that Warren can feel building in his chest as the days and months march on. He thinks he knows what they want. He just doesn't know why. What is it about him that they've latched onto? What is it that they want? Why, when what they have is so pure and good, would they look to him?A Warren Peace character study.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed. Written for H/C Bingo Round 7.

The first time Layla takes Warren's hand after she and Will start dating, Warren doesn't think anything of it. The second time, as her fingers twine with his, he feels something in the pit of his stomach that he doesn't quite know how to handle. The third time, he looks her dead in the eyes and tries to find the words to ask. When he can't, she nods and starts to slip her fingers from his grasp.

He can't stop the way his own grip tightens around her fingers.

When she smiles up at him, leaning in close, it's a little easier to breathe.

Will is less subtle but more skittish. It's too-long touches and quickly averted gazes, fists that linger on Warren's arms after a casual punch to the shoulder. Whispers and glances and ten thousand unspoken words that Warren can feel building in his chest as the days and months march on. He thinks he knows what they want. He just doesn't know why. What is it about him that they've latched onto? What is it that they want? Why, when what they have is so pure and good, would they look to _him_?

Time marches on. By the time his graduation has come and gone, nothing has come of their advances, and though Warren isn't surprised, he can't say he doesn't wish something had. There had been something about graduation--about heading back down to earth--that was more frightening than he'd wanted to admit. For all its faults, Sky High and the friends he'd made there had been a sanctuary from the reality of the legacy he was born into.

He tries. Truly, he tries to live the life of man and hero side by side. He lasts a few months into college before he finds he simply can't, anymore.

So he runs. He doesn't mean it that way, but he realizes eventually that that's what he's done. He packs his bags, applies for a transfer to Sichuan University, and he runs. His Chinese isn't as abysmal as he feared it would be, offers him enough to survive, and he makes sure to give himself a few weeks to settle in before school starts. Chengdu is beautiful, everything he wanted from this second, temporary respite from reality, and once he begins his courses, it's easy to bury himself in them. He's nineteen, now, still too young to know what he wants, but old enough to know that he needs to start deciding.

It isn't until halfway through his second year that he realizes he's stumbled into a few more Environmental Engineering courses than anticipated. It helps that it's one of the few programs that supports students with strong English-speaking backgrounds, but he knows that's not the only reason. But he takes enough joy in his studies that it's altogether too easy to ignore the underlying motivations and focus only on the desired results.

(He tries desperately not to think of soft red hair and a drive to change the world. He tries not to see her in every bright-eyed speaker that makes their way into the lecture halls he attends. He tries to focus on the words they say and not the memories they stir up. He fails.)

Their graduation comes and goes. He doesn't cross the world to be at their side. Each to their corners and in their corners they shall stay.

(He doesn't regret it. He _can't_. So he doesn't, he doesn't, he… does.)

Time marches on, and when they hand him a degree he finds himself at a crossroads again. Four years older and no better equipped to make a decision. Desperation and that still-present gnawing fear make his chest their home, and his first thought is of his mother, of the fact that he hasn't seen her in four years, and that maybe, just this once, he can make an exception to his promise of isolation. That he can step away from his vigilant hiding and go see her. Show her what he's accomplished. She knows he's alive--he's made sure to send letters those rare times he travels for school and can hide his location with a misleading postmark--but he knows too, now, that that couldn't have been enough for her.

So he goes home and when he makes his way to her doorstep, it takes all his strength to lift his hand and knock.

She opens the door, her eyes wide and pained when they recognize him, but she doesn't scold him. Doesn't yell or rage or even frown. She just smiles and embraces him, hiding her hurt in his shoulder. And he holds her in turn, cherishing the moment. And though it doesn't last long, for she tugs him inside and sets about moving through the kitchen with ease and joy, for food is the greatest healer, he only misses it a little. Because, even if just for now, he's home.

(He shouldn't be surprised that it all breaks.)

When they come marching in, Layla windswept from what must have been a cross-country flight, Will much less so, perhaps from always needing to be prepared for one, Warren feels himself go still. He can't begrudge his mother for calling them--they'd been his best friends for years, and they must have worried--but he isn't… he's not… he _can't_ …

Layla grasps Will by the shirtsleeve when he takes a step toward Warren, and that single touch deflates Will, a synchronization in their movements and thoughts that's obvious from just one exchange. (Warren wonders what else he's missed.) Will takes a slow breath, and then straightens a little, a tired, aching smile on his face.

"Hey buddy. How've you been?"

Warren's throat is tight. He can't speak.

"Finally finish that degree?" Layla asks, voice gentler than Will's. "Could use your help on some stuff I'm working on if you have the time."

"How did you--" Warren doesn't have to finish the question. He can feel his mother's eyes on his back, and he knows the answer already.

Layla takes a small step forward, maneuvering around Will while she holds him back like she's scared Warren might startle. (He might.) "It's good to see you, Warren," she says softly, and it's all Warren can do to nod back.

Time marches on, but all may not be gone. So he nods, heard heavy but head held high. "Good to see you too."

The answering smiles from both of them are blinding.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come hang with me on tumblr!](http://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/)


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